Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Poetry Tuesday: Mommy Complex

Mother's Finger
[Mother's Finger - Blueberry Flavor. Thanks, Paul!]


Mother, your finger, your
Blueberry finger points,
A long, white packing peanut
Sweet and purple side to you
A blander melting white rice-ness:
Blank slate Cheeto.

Mother, I do not know you
I cannot hold your hand.
Your fingers broke off like lizards' tails
As I tried to keep the clasp.
Your useless gestures are rolling
Around in my mouth.

Mother, you are removed,
The bright fruit of you is fleeting,
The sigh and styrofoam remains.
I absorbed your indexes, have finely hidden
Any knowing I could do.
To chew is not to capture.

Blueberry fingers of Mother are
My own. I have eaten them


David Michael said...

I love the poem! the snack: eh...

Jennette said...

Yeah. It was more fun to write than to eat.

Mechanic said...

it still gave me the perfect sense of what you were eating!

Jennette said...

Thanks, S. ;)

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